


It's Still A Breakup Even If You Were Never Together

by Biromantic_Nerd



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: (uses he/him pronouns), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Daredevil Season 1, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Foggy definitely has a crush on Matt, Friendship, Like the Brett & Foggy friendship is comfort and fluff, Netflix Daredevil - Freeform, Nonbinary Foggy Nelson, One Shot, One-Shot, Season/Series 01, because canonically Matt treats his friends like shit, but the Matt Murdock parts are angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 16:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13617144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biromantic_Nerd/pseuds/Biromantic_Nerd
Summary: Foggy groaned and flopped face first into a throw pillow."It must have been serious to break the two of you up." Brett commented, tone musing. "I thought the two of you were gonna be forever."Or, the one where Brett thinks Matt broke Foggy's heart. He's not exactly wrong.





	It's Still A Breakup Even If You Were Never Together

**Author's Note:**

> I was really inspired to do a story where Brett supported Foggy if there was a Nelson-Murdock breakup/argument 
> 
> Because I love the idea that Foggy and Brett are childhood friends. And that Foggy's on super good terms with Brett's mom. And when they grew up, they drifted apart a bit just trying to accomplish their respective careers. And when they finally met up again, Foggy was like, "Guess we're enemies now" and Brett was like "Why are you like this - OKAY fine we're enemies." 
> 
> So Brett and Foggy were really good friends, even if they don't really have time to hang out anymore. So when Matt Murdock's a part of the equation, Brett's like, "Sure, why not, you're my friend's boyfriend after all." But he and Matt don't really become _friends._ They just share that mutal friend in Foggy.
> 
> ALSO, I love Matt, okay? I do. And I love Matt being happy. But in this story, it reflects more the tone of the canon Netflix Daredevil tone, where Matt loves his friends - but doesn't treat them the way they deserve to be treated.

 

It wasn't somewhere Brett had been in...a long while. He had always meant to go back sooner but his coworkers never drank at bars that were half this dingy, and so he never suggested the place to them. And with work being so hectic and..... _strange_.....lately, the thought of the dive bar hadn't even crossed his mind. 

 

But he was in the area today, now, and there he was. 

 

Walking through the door and into the darkened building made him feel about ten years younger back when it was his usual place, the only bar he could really afford to be a frequent patron at. 

 

The inside of the place looked nearly identical to the way it had been a decade ago, just maybe a few more dents and a lot more stains. Josie herself looked the same too, just with a different hair color and more wrinkles. She still wore the same plaid shirt, sleeves cut off, that she always had worn back then at least once a week. 

 

Josie's eyes narrowed into slits when they landed on him. And Brett thought it might be that she was trying to place his name to his face or maybe even remember why he looked familiar when he hadn't been there in years or - 

 

"Your friend's over there, Slick." Josie said gruffly and jerked a thumb to the left. 

 

"My friend?" Brett asked, and blinked, taken off guard. 

 

Josie grunted and didn't bother to repeat herself. She turned her focus on washing out a grimy beer mug with an even grimier cloth rag. 

 

Brett ignored the fleeting thought that it looked like it could have been the same cloth from back when he used to haunt here...and looked past it to peer around the curve of the counter. 

 

"Foggy." Brett said in surprise. There truly couldn't have been too many options for Josie to have been talking about, once Brett stopped to think about it. The list of people Brett had visited the bar with was small - the list of the people who to this day would _still_ go to Josie's even without Brett's accompaniment? Extremely minimal. 

 

Foggy squinted up, teetering on his barstool as he turned to look at Brett. "Huh." Foggy muttered and then his face lit up. "Brett! My buddy!"

 

"Okay wow you're already drunk." Brett observed belatedly. 

 

"Now you - you're my friend." Foggy said, nodding and not deigning to respond to what Brett had said. "I thought I didn't have any friends. I thought I _don't_ have any friends. But here you are. Here's Brett." 

 

"Here I am." Brett agreed weakly as he tried to mentally calculate whether it'd be possible to sober him up enough for him to be fine on his own, or if Brett should stick with him and watch over him. 

 

"Here you are!" Foggy agreed, nodding too enthusiastically. He had to pause and clutch at his head. "And best of all, you're not Matt!"

 

Brett's eyebrows lifted high. "Me not being Matt is....a good thing?" He asked, not expecting an answer but unable to restrain his curiosity. 

 

Foggy nodded quickly. "I'm not talkin' to him. To talk to Matt. I'm mad. But I'm also sad. And Matt's probably out there happy and I'm sad, and that makes me mad, you know? So maybe I am mad and sad and - and - and mad-sad!" 

 

Brett blinked. And then sighed heftily. "Dammit." 

 

Brett shot a glance over to Josie, who was unashamedly ignoring them and sighed again. "Come on." Brett said softly. "I think it's time to get you home." 

 

"Here." Brett offered Foggy his hand, and Foggy tentatively took it. Brett heaved Foggy to a standing position, slowly, so that Foggy wouldn't have a chance of falling over. 

 

"Home? What if Matt shows up with his stupid face?" Foggy said, shaking his head in distress. 

 

Brett frowned, closed his eyes for a moment. "What if you stay with me?" He offered after thinking over what would be the easiest, safest route to get Foggy out of the bar. 

 

"Brett," Foggy beamed, grabbing his coat that he had been sitting on and draping it tiltingly on top of his shoulders. "That sounds like the best thing I've heard since - since...In a long time." 

 

Brett gently helped Foggy to pull his arms through his coat sleeves and fastened the coat buttons up carefully. 

 

"You're the nicest." Foggy continued smiling sappily, face softened by happiness now instead of the heavy sadness that had weighed it down earlier. 

 

"Yeah, well," Brett grumbled, cursing himself as he felt his ears burn warm. "Don't get used to it." 

 

Foggy nodded quickly. "It's a secret, I know! Because we're enemies! Even though you're the nicest." Foggy turned his head and loudly whispered to Josie. "He's _the_ nicest." 

 

Brett rolled his eyes and prayed silently for the Lord to grant him patience. 

 

"Called a cab for him." Josie said, looking at Brett. "Should be here soon." 

 

Brett's eyebrows rose. "A cab? He's not _that_ drunk..." Brett paused, maneuvering Foggy's arm around his shoulder to support Foggy's weight if he stumbled. "Is he?"

 

Foggy crooned. "Oh, Josie, I knew you cared!" 

 

Josie scoffed. "Been crying all night. I wouldn't be surprised if he walked into traffic, too damn blinded by tears." 

 

Brett peered down at Foggy with a new attention to the way Foggy's mouth trembled - not a drunken stutter then - and the puffy skin around his eyes. 

 

The facts were these. Foggy had been crying all night. _Josie_ had been worried about it enough to call him a cab. So it was bad. 

 

And - goddammit - Brett remembered that Foggy had mentioned Murdock's name, and he realized it wasn't just bad then; it was _really_ bad. 

 

Brett sighed. 

 

"Be seeing you, Josie." Brett said, leading Foggy to the exit slowly. 

 

"Yeah, uh-huh. See you in eight years, jackass." Josie muttered. 

 

Truthfully, he was kind of touched because that jab meant that she had remembered how long it had been since his last visit. 

 

Not that he'd say that aloud to Josie's face. He wasn't an idiot. 

 

_____________________________________

 

"Here you go." Brett said and handed the blanket to Foggy. Foggy simply stared at him and didn't take it. 

 

"Oh for - " Brett cut himself off and took a step closer to the couch, unfolding the duvet and taking it upon himself to carefully wrap it around Foggy. 

 

Foggy still continued to stare at him unblinkingly, but at least now he would be warm. 

 

"Goodnight, Foggy." Brett said. "I'll be in my room if you need me. You remember where the bathroom is?" 

 

Foggy nodded slowly. 

 

"Good." Brett felt relieved at Foggy's answer. The sudden silence from him had been disconcerting enough by itself but coupled with the complete unresponsiveness? Now that had been just a tad too close to alarming for Brett, who was so used to hearing Foggy's nonstop chatter that the quiet was beyond just odd - it was worrying. "Good." He repeated again, straightening some of the wrinkles in the duvet quickly in one smooth swipe. "I'll see you in the morning then."

 

"Goodnight, Brett." Foggy muttered quietly. 

 

Brett paused, foot on the first step of the staircase. "Goodnight, Foggy." He replied softly. And he left the hallway light on for him, just like when they were kids. 

 

____________________________________

 

Brett flipped the light switch and Foggy groaned as he passed him to get to the kitchen where the coffee machine had automatically brewed. 

 

Brett grabbed two mugs from the cabinet and the cabinet door accident lay slammed shut. Foggy half heartedly protested, moaning. Brett shook his head to himself. 

 

"Have pity on me; my mouth tastes like roadkill and old cheese." Foggy groaned out from the living room. 

 

"Uh huh." Brett said, completely unsympathetic, as he focused on stirring sugar into his coffee with much more concentrated attention than he needed to give it. 

 

Foggy let out more grumbling and zombie-like noises, more awake now but decidedly unhappy about it. 

 

Brett sighed and grabbed both cups of coffee, walking over to his living room. 

 

"Here." Brett thrust the coffee in his left hand towards Foggy with a roll of his eyes. "Drink it, you'll feel better." 

 

"What's in it?" Foggy asked, taking the coffee and sniffing at it skeptically. "You didn't put any milk, did? I can't - "

 

"- Have any dairy, I know. It's just black. Some sugar."

 

Foggy let out a noise of disgust but didn't hesitate to take a sip. 

 

"You threw up at my wedding." Brett reminded him. "The pasta had Alfredo sauce, and you complained about my 'strange and unusual dairy Alfredo sauce' for months afterwards." 

 

Foggy flushed. "Your mom always makes Alfredo with cauliflower! How was I supposed to know it's not actually the norm to not use milk! Instead of milk substitutes!" 

 

Brett shook his head. "Unbelievable," He said, but it was truly was one of the lesser unbelievable things Foggy had done. 

 

Foggy chugged the end of his coffee. "Blergh. Do you got anything with actual taste in it, or do you only own boring beverages? I cannot believe that your wife allows this - hey where is your better half, by the way?" Foggy realized. 

 

"Out of state. She's got a work seminar."

 

Foggy nodded. "Oh that's nice." Then Foggy blanched. "Um. Not that she's gone. I meant that like - aw heck. You know what, just please wait to punch my face until I don't have a hangover." 

 

Brett shook his head and ignored any insult -that had barely even been there and was clearly accidental - that Foggy was getting so worked up about. "Hey. If you manage to keep down the coffee for at least an hour, I'll give you a free pass at our stockpile of vegan goods." 

 

"Oooh." Foggy perked up. "Deal, definite deal." 

 

"Yeah," Brett huffed and remembered too many times back in the day where Foggy had thrown up all over his shoes during the morning after a night at Josie's. "We'll see about that."

 

______________________________________

 

Hours later and with no vomit incidence occurring, Brett leaned against the living room's archway with raised eyebrows. 

 

"What?" Foggy asked, immediately self conscious. 

 

"Come on." Brett said, crossing his arms. "You've been here for three hours. I let you drink all of my chocolate soy milk. And I didn't ask even once. Now spill it. What's up with you and Murdock?"

 

Foggy groaned and flopped face first into a throw pillow. 

 

"It must have been serious to break the two of you up." Brett commented, tone musing. "I thought the two of you were gonna be forever." 

 

Foggy reluctantly sat up, the duvet falling off of his shoulders as he did so. 

 

"We didn't - _break up._ " Foggy pointed out, swallowing down the painful response of _Yeah, I thought that we'd be forever too_ that Brett's comment elicited. "You know - because we were never actually together." 

 

"Did he cheat on you?" Brett asked, looking deeply worried as he disregarded everything that Foggy had said. 

 

"We weren't even a thing, oh my God." Foggy repeated in exasperation as Brett continued to stare at him in concern. 

 

Foggy sighed. "It's personal, Brett, okay?" 

 

Brett nodded slowly. "Alright. I was just concerned because that asshole clearly has broken your heart; but if you don't want to talk about it, then we won't talk about it. Fine." 

 

"Fine. Good." Foggy agreed and flopped back to laying down on the sofa. 

 

"But if he _did_ cheat on you - " Brett began, relentless and unwilling to let this go. Foggy groaned, interrupting him. 

 

"Brett. He didn't cheat on me. We weren't even dating, I promise. Now let me wallow in peace." 

 

"And why can't you do that at your place?" Brett asked, and then he snapped his fingers in mock realization. "Oh that's right! Because you want to hide away where he won't find you. Sounds to me like you expect him to come around apologizing."

 

"That's not - "

 

"And sounds to _me,_ " Brett continued, speaking over Foggy's half-hearted protest until Foggy gave in. "That you're not ready to forgive him. Or else you'd be there. At your apartment, waiting for him to apologize. For him to say that he only did it a handful of times and that he's so glad you're understanding about all of it. Because you would be, wouldn't you? And that's why you're here. So you won't forgive him because he doesn't deserve it." 

 

"First of all," Foggy corrected, sitting back up and pointing a finger in Brett's direction. "I don't think that he would come to apologize. I mean if he did, maybe then I'd consider it, yeah who knows, but I - "

 

"You don't think he'd even apologize?" Brett asked, surprised. 

 

Foggy shifted, uncomfortable. "Not really?" 

 

"What does Mom think about all this?" Brett asked. 

 

Foggy shook his head. "I haven't told her anything about....it." He finished awkwardly, inadequately. "But I think she might figure it out, I don't know. I've been avoiding her." 

 

Brett whistled lowly, shifting to move off of his reclining perch against the archway's curve as he readjusted both his body and his mindset. "Damn. Okay. So you're serious about this whole it being personal thing." 

 

Foggy nodded. "It's not anything against you, Brett, really. I'm just not ever going to tell a soul." 

 

Brett nodded slowly. And he made his way over to sit on the coffee table that was across from the sofa Foggy sat on. "Hey," Brett said softly. "Listen to me for a sec." He paused, waiting to see if Foggy would interrupt or not and then continued. "Whatever you're going through, you don't have to do it alone. Even if you don't want to talk about how much of an asswipe Murdock is - hey, bup, bup, bup, don't interrupt - " He chided as Foggy opened his mouth at that, ready to comment. 

 

Foggy closed his mouth. 

 

"You can still vent about it. I'll leave it alone - alright? - stop asking for the details. And if you want to drink all my chocolate soy milk, then you can...To an extent. Not forever. Just until you get back into the swing of things and get over that cactus fucker." Brett added on with a grin. 

 

Foggy snorted despite himself. 

 

"And honestly?," Brett added with a small, sad smile. "You're way too good for Murdock anyways." 

 

Foggy let out a disbelieving scoff. 

 

"What, my word ain't good enough for you?" Brett rolled his eyes. "Ask anyone whose got half a lick of sense." 

 

Foggy shook his head quickly. "Brett - "

 

"Bup bup bup." Brett held up a hand. "No arguing. It's over. End of discussion."

 

Foggy laughed. "You _ass,_ I was _going_ to say 'thank you.'"

 

Brett gave him a doubtful look. "Uh huh. Sure."

 

"I was!" 

 

Brett just continued to eye him dubiously. " _Uh huh._ "

 

Foggy sank happily into the duvet, wiggling against the couch as he made himself comfortable. 

 

"And Foggy?

 

"Yeah?" 

 

"You know this means you've got to stop avoiding my mom, right?" 

 

"Brett, my darling. I thought you'd never ask." 

 

Brett rolled his eyes. "Shut up. And no more cigars."

 

"But, Brett - "

 

"I _mean_ it." 

 

Foggy only smiled knowingly at the blanket, not commenting. Brett sighed. He knew a losing battle when he saw one. But that didn't mean that he couldn't keep trying. 

 

______________________________________

 

"I'm going to work, now." Brett informed Foggy.

 

Foggy nodded, old hat at the routine from back when they used to actually hang out. "I'll lock up the house if I leave, yeah." 

 

Brett paused. " _If_ you leave, huh?" He asked musingly. 

 

Foggy shrugged. "I'm calling in sick."

 

"And you're staying here?" Brett asked but knew the answer. 

 

Foggy clucked his tongue against his teeth. "Yeah?" 

 

"Yeah. Okay." Brett nodded. "See you later."

 

"Have a good day at work, honey!" Foggy chirped, like some kind of television fifties housewife. "I'll see you when you get home! I love you!" 

 

"Don't make me regret this." 

 

Foggy's cheerful laughter followed him out the door, and Brett smiled. 

 

______________________________________

 

Knee deep in paperwork after two homicide investigations earlier that day, Brett wasn't smiling anymore. 

 

"Lieutenant Mahoney?" Murdock asked as he approached Brett's desk carefully. 

 

Brett carefully did not groan out loud, but it was a close one. 

 

"Murdock." Brett greeted neutrally, looking up briefly to ensure that the lawyer made his way over without incident and then continued filling out his paperwork. "What is it this time?" 

 

"Have you seen Foggy recently?" Matt asked, sounding a tad too angry to be desperate. 

 

"Nope." Brett said flatly and shuffled another paper to the completed pile and grabbed a fresh one. 

 

His pen scratched softly as he continuously carried on with his work. 

 

Matt blew out an irritated, huffing breath. "Are you sure? The last I heard, he said that he was going to head over to your place...." He waited expectantly, the accusation clear. 

 

"Oh, really?" Brett finally set down his pen and looked up, crossed his arms across his chest. "That's funny. Because the last that _I_ heard? Foggy was drinking himself to the end of every last bottle at Josie's because _you_ broke his heart. Funny," Brett said but certainly didn't laugh. "How hearsay varies so much depending on if your source is reliable or not."

 

Murdock tilted forwards and then seemed to catch himself off-guard by his cane as he held it tightly with whitened knuckles and then managed to lean away from the incline he had been at, rocking back onto the heels of his feet so as not to snap the cane with his weight. "So you have seen Foggy." He said at long last. The accusation was silent but evident. 

 

Brett sighed. "Seriously. I'm only going to say this once. I don't care what - or even - who you did. But Foggy does care. So just stay away from Foggy until he wants to see you."

 

"How will I know when that is if you're keeping him from me?" Murdock demanded angrily. 

 

Brett leaned back in surprise. "Keeping - ? Foggy's a grown adult. He's making his own decisions. And right now? It's his choice that he doesn't want to see you. End of story. So if that's all? Then, _goodbye_ , Murdock."

 

Murdock opened his mouth, and Brett sighed. 

 

"Man," Brett rubbed at one eye tiredly. "I have an actual job to do. So unless you came here for something else besides trying to stalk your ex, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

 

Matt nodded, the motion curt and tense. "Fine." He muttered, pivoting sharply. He tapped the cane harshly on the floor; he swept the air in front of him in angry arcs before striding away. He knocked over two crates filled with towering stacks of paperwork. 

 

Brett sighed. "I'm too tired to deal with this bullshit." He muttered and then went back to completing his mound of paperwork. He already knew that he'd be working late. 

 

____________________________________

 

"You already eat dinner yet?" Brett asked to the house at large, as he shut the front door with his foot and began unbuttoning his coat.

 

"Uh." Foggy's voice answered, like Brett had been pretty sure it would. "No?" 

 

Brett sighed. "Okay."

 

"....'Okay'?" Foggy asked, and Brett walked over to the living room to eye him. 

 

"Yes, Foggy. 'Okay.' As in: okay I guess I'm making us dinner." 

 

Foggy winced. "You don't have to make me dinner."

 

"Have you even eaten today?" He asked skeptically. "You're in the exact same place I last saw you." 

 

"I have!"

 

" _Besides_ chocolate milk?" 

 

Foggy opened his mouth to answer, but Brett held up a finger warningly. "If you say 'coffee,' I might strangle you."

 

Foggy closed his mouth. "Well," He said after a moment. "I wouldn't want you to have to arrest yourself, I suppose." 

 

Brett shrugged of his coat and threw it on Foggy's head. 

 

"Hey!" 

 

And then he made his way to the kitchen. 

 

_____________________________________

 

Hands deep in mixing ground beef with egg, the doorbell rang. 

 

"Foggy," Brett called. "I'm kind of busy." 

 

"Yeah, yeah, I'll go get that!" 

 

A moment later the sound of the door unlocking and opening was clear. 

 

"Matt," Foggy said softly. "Hey." 

 

Brett paused. He sighed, rubbing the back of one hand across his face tiredly as he tried to decide whether to stay in the kitchen or to go and interfere. He stared for a long moment at the would-be meatloaf and then went to wash his hands, just in case. 

 

"Foggy." Matt replied, and for a moment Brett thought he was going to act like an actual human being that wouldn't break Foggy's heart any more. And then Matt said, accusingly, "I called, but you didn't pick up." 

 

"Oh!" Foggy scoffed. " _I_ didn't pick up, huh? Gee, that must be _terrible,_ Matt." Foggy inhaled angrily and loudly. "It must be awful to call and call _and call_ and not get an answer. Especially when you're in the hospital and worried that your best friend might be somewhere out there all alone and dying. Oh wait!" Foggy laughed bitterly. "That was me, not you. You're not worried. You're not even _concerned_ about me."

 

"Foggy, that's not - "

 

"No," Foggy continued, and Matt stopped talking. "You don't get to do this. Not again. You don't get to just - walk all over me, my feelings, and my life and then tell me what is and isn't true. You don't get to, Matt. And so maybe you're a little upset with me. Okay fine. But it's nothing compared to what you've put me through. What you're gonna keep putting me through." 

 

"Foggy..." Matt said softly. But then he didn't say anything else. That was it. 

 

"If you ever cared about me at all, Matt," And the sheer amount of pleading in Foggy's voice broke Brett's heart. "Then you could understand at least that." Matt didn't say anything, and Foggy pressed onward, voice shaky, "It's not that much to ask. For you to try to understand." 

 

"Maybe," Matt murmured softly, and then he continued in that same damnably soft voice, "We should talk about this _somewhere else_." 

 

Brett closed his eyes. 

 

There was silence. 

 

Brett slowly dragged his hand down his face own last time but decided it was time to face the music after all. He stepped out of the kitchen, ready to intervene. 

 

"Don't - don't cry." Matt said, sounding horribly upset. 

 

And _dammit,_ Foggy _was_ crying. Brett picked up his pace after he too began to hear the way Foggy's breath shook.

 

Matt's head jerked up just as Brett turned the corner and saw the way Foggy's shoulders were shaking with the sobs he was trying to stifle. 

 

"Get out." Brett ordered simply, calmly. 

 

Matt frowned. "I - "

 

"I'm not asking." Brett said firmly, arm gently wrapping around Foggy's trembling shoulders and guiding him away from the door. "Go take a warm bath," Brett suggested softly. "I'll deal with this." 

 

Foggy shook his head. "But - but it's Matt. I should - " 

 

"You _should_ and will do whatever you want." Brett agreed. "But you can do those things _later,_ Foggy." 

 

Foggy paused, bit his trembling lip, and nodded. "Okay." He said, sounding unsure, as he shot one last look at Matt before walking away without saying a word. 

 

"No." Brett cut Matt off before he could say anything either. 

 

Matt closed his mouth. 

 

"You're going to wait." Brett told him, and Matt's entire posture immediately changed from sadly remorseful to lividly angry. "You're not going to stop Foggy from coping with your shit in a healthy way. And when you're ready to have this conversation with him _like an adult_ you can try again."

 

"I don't need your permission to talk to my friend." Matt raged. "Foggy and I are partners. This doesn't involve you."

 

"It's my condo you showed up at, so, yeah, I'd say I'm involved." Brett countered easily. 

 

Matt flushed. 

 

Brett sighed. "Look, man, I don't hate you. I don't even dislike you, okay? But when your head is so far up your ass that even Foggy's upset with you, then it should be apparent that you're doing something wrong."

 

"You just assume it's all my fault, huh?" Matt pointed out petulantly. 

 

"Isn't it?" Brett raised an eyebrow. 

 

Matt scowled. 

 

Brett sighed again. "Listen. You and Foggy? Can work it out. Just don't keep clinging to the idea that all it's gonna take is for Foggy to immediately forgive you and give you some sort of - absolution."

 

Matt's lips quirked into a slight smile. 

 

"As a matter of fact," He advised. "Try asking for _Foggy's_ forgiveness. Try _wanting_ Foggy's forgiveness."

 

"Not that I'm not grateful, but why are you helping me?" Matt asked, head tilted ever so slightly in curiosity. 

 

Brett smiled bitterly. "You just don't get it, do you? Foggy is my friend." 

 

Matt frowned. "That still doesn't explain - "

 

"Foggy," Brett interrupted calmly. "Loves you. And it makes him unhappy to fight with you. Beyond unhappy, even. It makes him miserable." Brett shook his head at the bewildered expression on Matt's face. "You haven't realized that by now? Foggy would do anything for you. To fight with you is against his nature. It's going to destroy him if you keep it up."

 

Matt shook his head. "You're wrong." He muttered stubbornly, head still shaking. "You're wrong."

 

"Well." Brett clucked his tongue. "Let's not have to find out. Come back later and _apologize_."

 

"You don't even know what we're fighting about." Matt said, sounding like he desperately hoped that was true. 

 

"No." Brett confirmed easily, instead of bluffing. "But I know you. And I know Foggy. So come back in a few hours - tomorrow morning, even - Murdock. But this time? _Apologize,_ for fuck's sake."

 

Matt nodded. "Alright." 

 

Brett's shoulders felt lighter as Matt agreed. "Yeah? Alright then. Now scram. I gotta go clean up another one of _your_ messes."

 

Matt winced

 

And Brett closed the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Title of the fic is inspired by one of my playmoss playlists. Oddly enough, because you'd think that it would've been the other way around.


End file.
